


Conceptual

by bar2d2s



Category: The Flash (Comics)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-12
Updated: 2015-05-12
Packaged: 2018-03-30 05:16:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3924256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bar2d2s/pseuds/bar2d2s
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Axel’s thirteen years old, and he’s falling in love with a concept.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Conceptual

On his twenty-first birthday, after his first legal Four Horsemen, Axel finally confessed to Len why he was so keen on being a Rogue.

“S'like being in love.” Len rolled his eyes, taking a pull on his beer. “No, shut up, it is. When I was thirteen, y'all robbed my ma’s bank. I was there. I saw you and you got away. Yeah, Flash gotcha later, but you got away from the bank." 

He can remember it all perfectly, too. It was one of the last jobs they pulled as a semi-group. Mick and Digger grabbed the money, Len took care of the security guards, Mark and James were on crowd control. Axel still has the yo-yo James dropped that day, in his haste to get gone once they had what they came for. It didn’t do anything. It was just that, a yo-yo. But Axel had watched the news later, had seen Trickster concuss the Flash with one just like it.

Axel’s thirteen years old, and he’s falling in love with a concept.

"And then, and then later, I see Trickster ain’t running with y'all no more. So I think, I could do that! No problem! So I make a costume.”

It had been horrible, his first costume. He’d looked like Trickster Junior, all stripes and spots and cape. It was how he broke into the warehouse with James’ stuff, dressed like that. No one questioned the costume. That had been his first real crime.

“…s'a shitty costume, forget about it. So I make a new costume. It’s way better than the first one. And I get what makes the shoes go and make ‘em better.”

The shoes. God, the shoes. It had been a pain and a half to get the antigrav mechanism to work right in the hollowed-out soles of his Converse. Nearly said fuck it, stolen a pair of Creepers, and started over, but they worked eventually. And then he could fly. The number of times he’d nearly run into a building, or a wall, or a tall fence, or a power line, he couldn’t tell you. Big number, though.

“So I got the costume. I got the shoes. I got the tricks. And guess what?”

“What?” Mark asked, bored. Axel threw his hands up in exasperation.

“No more Rogues! Y'all’d called it quits! Then Blacksmith found me, and she promised me,” Money, acceptance, respect, a name, a reputation, a good time. “…stuff. But she was good for it. Introduced me to the right people and-”

“I know this part, Axel. Get to the point.” Len interrupted, his latest beer making him grouchier, less willing to listen. “How’s being a Rogue like falling in love?” Axel blinked at him.

“Wha? No. No, okay, discovering I wanted to be a Rogue was like falling in love. With, uh, with a concept. I was so in love with the concept, I’d do anything to make it a reality. So I did!” Evan groaned, head thumping to the table. 

“Talk about a bullshite ending, eh?” Axel shot him an English bird, doubly insulting.

“You’re just jealous that I lived the American dream. Saw something, wanted it real bad, worked for it, got it!”

“And now you’re twenty-one, getting wasted in a bar with a bunch of old men instead of partying with kids your own age, well done.” Axel opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again. Mark had a good point.

“Yeah, but, it’s like. You’re my friends. My teammates. Who else would I wanna spend my birthday with?”

Either he’d stumped them, or they didn’t feel like arguing with him over this was worth the effort, as no one shot back any sort of witty one-liner. Whatever reason, Axel grinned.

He was spending his twenty-first with his family, what could be better than that?


End file.
